


This is different than in the movies!

by definitelynotafan



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen, Ghost Louis, Ghost Pranks, M/M, ghost fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 06:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13161078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitelynotafan/pseuds/definitelynotafan
Summary: In which Nick's new flat is haunted and the ghost has a weird thing about shoes.





	This is different than in the movies!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmmyLouWho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyLouWho/gifts).



> I want to say big THANK YOU to the mods of this exchange for being so fucking patient with me. 
> 
> Life got in the way after I had signed up but I thought I could still finish on time. Obviously I couldn't. So thank you to the amazing mods for granting me extension after extension. You guys are the absolute best!
> 
> To the person sending in that prompt:  
> I never thought I would have so many ideas about ghost Louis. But I did. Not all of them made it into the fic. I never really thought about ghost fics but man, am I in love with them now. Thank you so much for taking part in this exchange and I hope this is at least somewhat what you had in mind!
> 
> One last note: Louis is a ghost, which means he died. There is barely any talk about his death in there and none that is emotional but it's still a fact. If reading about death is unsafe for you, maybe don't read this fic.

Boxes are littering every inch of the flat but at least now they are all inside. This is all Nick had planned to achieve today anyway. He doesn’t need most of the shit that is inside the boxes. Maybe he should have thrown it out all together since this was meant to be a new start. New flat, new life new Nick. For now, most of the boxes would just go into storage in one of the spare rooms. While Nick busies himself making coffee from water heated in a microwave and a packet of instant coffee, Pig and Stinky are already running like wild through the empty place. They don’t seem confused that there is no couch for them to be jumping on. Even with the exhaustion from all the moving clinging to him, Nick dreads going to sleep. A mattress on the floor makes the best sleeper in the world feel uneasy and he knows he has never been one to get a good night’s sleep. He should have asked to stay with someone. It’s not like his friends hadn't offered. But Nick had been so set on proving to himself that he can do this by himself he had declined pretty much every help he had been offered.

Before he goes to get ready for bed he sets up a place for the dogs in his bedroom. He gets out their dog beds and some blankets that he specifically hadn't washed before moving so they still have some familiar smell on them. He read somewhere that should calm them down a bit and make them more comfortable in the new home. He also read that you should keep up the same routine as before but for tonight he'll allow them in his bedroom. Just for tonight. A couple of days maybe. They will have to get used to sleeping in the living room again as Nick has regained some sort of routine. For now, he just can’t even bear the thought of being alone. Lonely. He puts his cup into the sink and goes to find the box labelled “essentials” to get out his toothbrush and toothpaste.

The mattress is even harder than imagined, Nick can feel every place where it had been overused. He should have gotten a new one with the new bed but after buying so many new things already he had noticed that he was basically throwing out everything he had touched and stopped. This was not him. Nick Grimshaw doesn’t get heartbroken. If he kept telling himself that for long enough, he might even believe it one day.

It's a crash that wakes him up. All of a sudden Nick finds himself sitting straight up. It takes him another few moments to recognise where he is. Stinky comes running into the room and stares at him from the foot of the mattress, his head cocked to one side. Pig is still sleeping peacefully next to him. “What did you do?” Stinky keeps looking silently at him and Nick decides to get up and go check. It’s not like his dogs are suddenly going to start talking to him. In the kitchen he finds his cup from last night shattered on the floor in a puddle of milky tea. Nick could have sworn that he had finished his tea the night before. He was also sure that he did not leave the cup out on the worktop and even if, he has no idea how his dog could have gotten up there. Not even pig would have managed that. “Stinky, how did you get up there?” he asks but Stinky just whimpers and runs back into the bedroom. Nick shakes his head. Maybe his dogs will need some time to get used to the new flat after all. For now Nick decides to make himself some coffee and then get a move on with getting his stuff out of the boxes. After he has cleaned up the kitchen.  When he checks the time on his phone he realises it’s just gone 6 and while he could do with a little bit more sleep he also can’t see himself lying back down on the mattress. His back feels sore all over. He checks his twitter while having his coffee standing up and uploads a video of the boxes to his Instagram story. With a sigh he starts to look for some cleaning equipment in the mess that is his living room. He has to open several boxes labelled “house stuff” before he finds a broom and some kitchen roll. This has to do for now.

Since the boxes are open already, Nick figures he might as well start with those and slowly starts to look through the first one. Halfway through he decides to better set up the TV first so he can have some background noise. He is lucky and there is an old Bake Off marathon running all day. He switches on just as an upset Deborah confesses to Sue how she accidentally used Howards custard instead of her own. The rest of the morning passes rather quickly as he listens to Marry Berry and Paul Hollywood’s comments while slowly making his way through some of the boxes, putting away stuff into cupboards that came with the sparsely furnished flat. From time to time   Pig joins him, either licking across his face or just curiously watching him. Stinky pretty much stops at the threshold of the living room. His dogs are weird. Nick feels a bit bad for having been a bit mad at him in the morning and tries to make his dog forgive him but fails miserably all morning long.

Around noon Nick checks his phone again. He declines a lunch invitation from Fiona and promises her to make it up to her the next day after work. There is also a text from Harry, offering Nick to stay at his London flat should his own feel too empty. Nick thinks about it for a moment but figures that spending the week alone in Harry’s flat won’t help him feel at home in his in the long run. He sends a string of emojis back that hopefully convey his gratitude while declining his offer.

His stomach grumbling is what makes Nick get the dogs’ leashes a bit later, having come to the conclusion that if he wanted to eat anything but cereal he’ll have to go out. Stinky seems to have forgiven him the moment he hears the words “going for a walk” as he comes sprinting down the hall not a second after Nick calls him over. Both he and Pig happily sniff out the new neighbourhood. There is a Waitrose not far from the flat and Nick quickly pops in for a few essentials, so he can feed himself over the next couple of days. When both of his dogs look bored with the walk and Nick is shivering from the cold he figures there is nothing left to do but to go home.

With most of the kitchen supplies still in the boxes, Nick ends up eating frozen pizza, sitting on the floor in front of the TV.  He feels rather like a broke first semester student than a man in his thirties. At least he had a hectic week at work to look forward to. With the Radio 1 Teen Awards coming up he would be pretty much living in rehearsals and production meetings. Work is always Nick's way of dealing with non-heartbreaks. (He's really not heartbroken, he swears.)

Nick continues with the boxes for the rest of the afternoon and settles down to sleep early for once.

But the second night is worse. The mattress is still incredibly uncomfortable and Nick is woken up three times during the night by Stinky barking and growling at seemingly thin air. The third time it happens Nick locks him out of the bed room. After checking the whole flat for an intruder just to be sure. He also makes Pig join him because he can't bear the thought of Stinky feeling lonely. He'd rather feel lonely himself than make his dogs suffer.

In the morning his alarm clock refuses to go off and he barely makes it to work in time for him to go on air. He shakes his head at Tina and Fiona's questioning looks and puts on a cheery and not at all out of breath voice for his intro.

"So, Nick, how's the new flat?" Fiona asks him later on in the show.

"Well, so far it's pretty empty, thanks for asking."

"When can we expect an invitation to dinner then?"

"I'm afraid that will have to wait a bit. Unless you're into eating dinner on the floor. With plastic cutlery and the likes. While Pig and Stinky are delighted by you being at perfect face licking height."

"Well okay then, I guess we all have to wait. Does that also mean no Teen Awards after party at your place?"

Nice link, Nick thinks. He tells her as much and for the next minute they talk about who they are excited to see perform and try to guess who will wear the craziest outfit. It makes for nice radio and distracts Nick from his back pain. And the fact that Stinky wouldn't let him leave this morning. Something is wrong with his dog and he is getting worried. He sits through some production meetings and tries to stay even more focused than usual. Being on telly is always more nerve wracking than being on the radio. He also has the slight irrational fear that he will fall down the stairs before Sunday and then have to go and present the awards with his face being all hideous.

He gets a curry on his way home and eats it sitting on the floor again. There is an email from the furniture store apologising for the delay and promising his delivery for next Monday. Just perfect. When he goes to the fridge to put milk in his tea he notices that it's almost empty when he could swear that it was full just this morning when he left. He might as well add "going mad" to his mental list of everything that is going on in his life right now. There is still so much time in the afternoon left. He had made plans to hang out with Fiona in the evening but he's not sure he really wants to go out.

In the end, she comes over and helps Nick with some of the boxes while they have a bottle of wine. It's not the worst evening entertainment as these things go. The feeling turns a bit when Fiona can't find her shoes as she is about to leave. They're no longer in the hallway next to the door and interrogating his dogs does nothing to help find them. Pig and Stinky just stare back at him and make no move to confess what they did with them. But it's not like anyone else could have taken them. Fiona ends up borrowing a pair of Nick's slippers and takes a cab home.

"I don't know why you're doing this." Nick mutters in the general direction of his dogs. As ever, they stay silent. He still holds them close and hopes that some extra cuddling will help them get settled in, in this new flat. Maybe he should look into getting them those anxiety blankets like he'd seen on the internet before.

The rest of the week goes by pretty much in the same way. Nick gets up to work and comes home late and cleans up some more of the boxes and taking his dogs or a walk before going to bed early. Stinky still keeps barking at nothing which means both of his dogs are now permanently sleeping in the living room and it feels like Stinky resents him for it. He straight up ignores him from time to time or growls at him and runs away. Some shoes go missing only to turn up again the next day in weird locations. Nick found Fiona's shoes in one of the kitchen cabinets and he doesn't have any rational explanation for it. There is no way his dog would have managed to open the cupboard door, put the shoes in and then close it again. Nick also finds one of his shoes he had wanted to wear to work that morning underneath his pillow in the evening. It really freaks him out. At least on Friday afternoon some of his furniture comes and he finally has a real bed. While the people set up the bed and some other essentials like a new wardrobe and shelfs, Nick takes his dogs over to Harry's. His popstar best friend on break from tour. Nick really needs to get away from it all.

His dogs love Harry, and really, who doesn't? As soon as they are inside his posh London penthouse flat they are jumping up and down between Harry's legs and then head straight for the shelf on which he keeps their treats. The fact that Harry keeps treats for when they come over might have something to do with the fact that sometimes Nick feels like they love Harry more than him.

After the dogs have gotten a few treats to chew on they are off, fighting for them between them and Nick finally gets to hug Harry. Harry is a great hugger and wraps himself all around Nick for the longest time. It's nice to have him back in the country.

"It's good to see you again, Harold." Nick says when he is drawing back. There is a big dimpled smile on Harry's face.

"It's good to see you too. You alright?" he asks.

"Perfect as always." Nick lies.

Harry looks at him for a moment and Nick fears he will call him out on the lie but then he shrugs and Nick gets away with it. For now.

They get settled on the couch and for the next hour Nick listens to Harry's stories from his concerts all over Europe. Harry tells him about slipping on a Kiwi on stage and Nick can't hold his laughter in. Only at a Harry Styles show would someone even think about throwing a Kiwi on stage. Harry laughs with him and even shows him the video of the accident. Nick makes a mental note to download the video later on and save it, in case he ever needs to tease Harry about it.

Nick updates Harry on how the show has been doing and avoids talking about the flat. He doesn't think he could pull off a successful lie for so long and he doesn't want Harry to worry. Harry has enough of his own problems and shouldn't need to be like a worried mum to Nick. Nick is ten years older for god's sake. It should be him asking whether Harry is eating right and getting enough sleep, not the other way around. Being over 30 means you should have your life together and since Nick doesn't he settles for the "Fake it till you make it" approach.

The sun starts to set and during a lull in conversation Nick's stomach can be heard. Immediately Harry offers to cook something and while Nick should probably head home to clean up the flat or something, he also can't resist a good home cooked meal, especially not if Harry is cooking.

He pretends to need some convincing for a bit but they both know it's a lie.

Not long afterwards there are steaks sizzling in the pan and the kitchen smells of roast potatoes and vegetables. Nick helps Harry with washing the salad while Harry is grinding up some pepper and other spices in a mortar. If the popstar thing doesn't work out, Nick figures Harry has a shot at being a celebrity chef. The kid cooks like he was born to be. It feels nice and domestic to be cooking together with someone and Nick doesn't know when he last felt like that. Probably before ... but he is not thinking about that. He is also not thinking about how there were suddenly items on his grocery list that he cannot remember adding to it when he was writing it the night before. When Harry suggests opening a bottle of wine he doesn't even pretend to decline. Early meetings be damned. He'll probably regret it in the morning but whatever.

The first bite of meat makes Nick groan and Harry beams at him from across the table.

"You look like you haven't had homemade food in a year." he comments.

It hasn't been that long of course but the last week, Nick had lived on take away food and crisps.

He shrugs.

"It's not that bad."

Harry hums.

"Then tell me about it."

By now, Nick has had the better part of the bottle of wine and his cheeks have started to heat up just a bit. Maybe that's why he doesn't straight up lie to Harry's face.

"It's ... new."

"Good new or bad new?"

"Just new, you know? I think Stinky hates me for it, keeps whimpering and barking at night. Won't go into the living room sometimes."

Harry turns his head to look at the dogs behind him where they are curled up around each other on an old blanket Harry keeps around for them.

"I don't think he is capable of hate. He's a tiny dog. They are made of love and sunshine."

In Nick's experience, small dogs tend to be made out of rage and destruction, but he won't burst Harry's bubble.

"It's not just that but ... there are weird things happening."

"What things?" Harry furrows his brow.

"Shoes go missing. A cup of tea fell down from the counter in the morning while I was sleeping. I don't know."

Harry snorts.

"So …your dogs are behaving like dogs, is that what you're trying to say?"

"No, it's not ... It can't be them."

"Nick," Harry looks at him seriously, "I know you might want to find things that are wrong with this flat, but I can assure you that you will feel at home in there too. It just takes time."

Nick gets a cab home later that night, pleasantly buzzed. His mood is only slightly dampened when he gets home and there are tea bags scattered all over the kitchen counters.

The last rehearsals for the Teen Awards go over without a hitch and even though Nick is a bit hungover and drinks more than the usual amount of coffee, he feels excited for the first time in a week. The day of the awards he gets up extra early and takes his dogs for an early walk. Maybe his excitement has infected them because even before he has gotten their leashes, they are nosing at the front door.

Nick gets to the venue early. Time passes quickly and with all the last-minute errands, pretty soon it is time to go on stage. His nerves calm down the minute he steps onto the stage. He is his most charming self and revels in the noise of the audience and the amazing performances. The audience eats the banter between him and the artist up and he loves that he is getting to do this with one of his close friends. Rita keeps him sane during the breaks and before he knows it the event is over and they are all headed to the after party.

He is a couple of drinks in, talking to some producer whose name he has already forgotten, when he spots Harry across the room.  While he did not perform, Harry did not want to miss out on a good night out with some of his friends it seems. He's talking to Liam and Nick excuses himself to go and join them, via a detour to the bar.

"Harry Styles and Liam Payne, united once again, someone at the Daily Mail probably just creamed their pants."

"Good thing they aren't invited then." Harry grins back. His eyes are glazed and there is a slight sheen of sweat on his otherwise perfect face. (Harry might be one of his best friends but he is not blind, okay.)

Liam is sipping on an almost empty bottle of coke and smiles pleasantly at them both. Nick likes Liam just fine, but he has never really spoken to the guy alone that wasn't in an interview setting and so the conversation lulls a bit after that. He inquiries about the health of Cheryl and baby Bear and then congratulates him again on a well done single and performance earlier tonight.

Soon after that, Liam starts saying his goodbyes.

"As much as I love industry parties," he starts, and Nick knows it's a lie, no one loves them. "My two favourite people are waiting for me at home and I can't let them wait." Harry snorts but hugs Liam for a long moment and Nick gets a strong clap on the shoulder. He tells him to give his best to Cheryl and the baby and that he can't wait to meet the little one.

"Man, doesn't Liam sometimes make you feel like you're doing a shitty job on being an adult?" Nick wonders out loud and Harry grins back at him.

"Well, you kinda are a shitty adult to be honest."

"Fair call, I guess. What are you doing now? Exciting popstar things to do?"

"Extremely exciting. I'm gonna go home and wait for tomorrow so I can drive up to my mum's for a couple of days. I'm taking Gemma with me, so I'll have to wait for her to finish work."

"Oh, the scandalous life of young Harry Styles. Wanna come back with me and have a look at the new place? I have frozen pizza and cheap wine."

"You have to be on air in the morning." Harry reminds him.

"A responsible adult would probably go to sleep early. Good thing that we've established that I am not one of them."

"Neither am I."

They get a cab back to Nick's place, making a stop at a 24h shop because Harry is craving cookies. Back at home Nick lets Harry borrow some joggers and a shirt so he doesn't have to hang out in his fancy Gucci suit and changes as well. Then he gives him the full tour.

"And here we have my bedroom, fully furnished as of Friday night. There is a bathroom, with all the usual stuff in the usual places. A kitchen with more appliances than I'll ever need and some special pots and pans I don't know how to use. The kitchen was the only part that was complete when I moved in by the way. And lastly, the living room. Or rather, a telly in front of a big rug and two dog beds because the rest of my furniture won't arrive until tomorrow."

"Nice, I guess that saves us the discussion on whether someone is taking the couch tonight."

Nick has on several occasions tried to take the couch, in case Harry is not comfortable sleeping in the same bed with him. Nick a is blanket-hogger and sleep kicker. But since Harry can apparently sleep while floating in icy water, he guesses he'll be fine anywhere.

"Are you hungry? I hate the posh food at awards. Why can't they serve something proper?" Nick asks but makes his way back into the kitchen anyway.

"What? Like frozen pizza?" Harry calls after him.

"Exactly… it's nice, it's fast and everyone likes pizza. Everyone who is human at least. If they don't like it, they're lying. All that low carb, non-fat, sugar free talk is crap."

Harry finally followed him into the kitchen and hops onto his counter, even though his long limbs are almost toughing the floor.

"Okay, I believe you. Now put those pizzas in because I'm starving."

They eat the pizzas and drink more wine than is probably good for them. Nick is on the verge of being drunk when he mutes the telly and turns to Harry. They are lying on the rug in the living room with the blankets brought over from the bed.

"You're a spiritual person, right?"

Harry turns his head to look at him funnily.

"Um ... I guess. Why?"

"You have to keep this a secret okay. Can you promise that?"

"Of course, Nick, you know you can trust me."

"This isn't like gossip. You can't tell your band members about this. Not even your mum."

"I wouldn't do that if you didn't want me to."

"She'd think I'm mad and won't let you hang out with me anymore."

"I mean … I'm an adult and can make my own decisions but okay, whatever you say, I promise."

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

A long moment of silence stretches between them.

"I mean I do believe in like energies and that people might leave behind some of them? And like maybe it's actually a law of nature that we just can't describe yet, you know? But I don't believe in like ghost like in movies. That's just people seeing something they can't explain and they just say it's ghosts so they have an answer. What has you asking about that?"

Nick sighs and thinks about how to phrase his next questions.

"Do you think that those ... energies can like ... move stuff?"

"Stuff like ...?"

"Shoes."

"What? Sorry, you've lost me there, mate. Shoes? What are you on about?"

Nick takes a deep breath. This could be the last moment in this friendship where Harry doesn't think he is crazy. But Nick has been thinking and this is the only explanation he has come up with that doesn't make him out going mad and Nick likes to think that he is still plenty sane. There is just some unexplained shit happening around him. And Nick needs to get it off his chest before it gets worse.

"I think my new flat is haunted." he breathes out fast.

"What? Haunted ... as in ghosts?"

Harry sits up so fast, it makes Nick feel vertigo.

"Yes."

"Nick, did you take anything at the show?" Harry almost whispers.

"What? No, of course not! You know I don't do that."

Harry shrugs apologetically.

Nick wordlessly gets up and goes to fetch his grocery list from his kitchen.

"Okay, please hear me out. This is my grocery list. And there are items on there, that I didn't write. Or don't remember writing. But it's also in a different handwriting."

He hands the list to Harry.

"I don't buy Yorkshire Tea. Why is it on there?"

Harry studies the list closely.

"I mean ... this doesn't mean anything, right? There are people in and out of you flat all the time. Maybe this is one of your friend's way of telling you that they don't like your choice of tea."

Nick rubs his temples.

"No one has been over since Fiona on Monday."

Harry's head snaps up.

"What? Are you like ... okay? Is this still because of --"

Nick stops him.

"No, this is not about that. I've been too busy with meetings, rehearsals and then coming home and unboxing all my shit. I'm wasn't exactly good company. And there is other stuff."

"Um Nick, I'm not judging or anything but why did you add lube between cucumbers and carrots? Like did they make you remember you're out of it or?"

Nick rips the list from Harry's hands.

What the fuck? He can't really believe his eyes but there, between the two vegetables it actually says "lube" in smaller handwriting. His heartbeat picks up. This can't be happening.

"This is what I'm talking about. I added something to the list this morning and lube wasn't on there. I swear. Why would I put in there? It's not like I'd pop down to Tesco for a few vegetables and a bottle of lube."

Harry stares at him as if he had grown two heads in the last minute.

"Okay so you have weird items on your shopping list. I don't know. Didn't you say the furniture people were here on Friday? Maybe they messed with the list and you didn't see it until now."

"Yeah I bet they also spread my tea bags all over the counters?"

Harry sighs.

"Disgruntled listener, maybe? You do have those, you know. Maybe one of them isn't a Breakfast Show fan."

Nick shakes his head again.

"You know what, let's take a walk with the dogs and then forget this conversation ever happened, alright?"

Pig and Stinky jump up from where they were what looked like sleeping on their dog beds at the word walk, as if they were only waiting for Nick to say it. Harry slowly gets up from the floor as well, still looking at Nick in a funny way.

"Alright but I'll need to borrow a jumper from you or something."

Nick goes to his wardrobe to fetch something for Harry to wear. The conversation had sobered him up quite a bit and also brought on a headache.

"Nick, do you know where I took off my shoes? I could have sworn I left them in the hallway."

"Check the kitchen cabinets."

"What?"

"Just do it, Harry."

Nick hears the opening and closing of several cabinet doors and then a surprised yelp.

"What the fuck, Nick? Why did you put them in there?" Harry yells while walking into the bedroom, a pair of Gucci loafers in his hand.

"I didn't," Nick sighs. "But that's where they usually end up. That, or under my pillow. And before you say anything, no, I'm pretty sure my dogs aren't capable of that. I can't explain it."

"This is fucked up."

"Apparently that's my life now."

Nick wakes up to the smell of coffee and sure enough there is a steaming mug waiting for him in the kitchen. Harry is still fast asleep in Nicks bed but Nick is too tired and hungover to care and just drinks it after getting out of the shower.

It's almost 9 when Harry texts him.

Harry: What the fuck Nick? Are you like 5? There's pictures…

Nick doesn't have time to answer before the song is over but he thinks he has a pretty good idea what this is about when Fiona gets a wicked grin on her face and turns to him.

"So Nick, I've just seen on Twitter that a certain popstar friend of yours has been sighted in London sporting a drawing of a certain … male genitalia on his cheek. How wild did the afterparty get yesterday?"

Oh god, Nick thinks but he doesn't much time to think about an answer, he reminds himself.

"Well Fifi, I'm not sure if this is appropriate for breakfast radio so I guess our listeners will have to get without me spilling all the hot gossip. But I might tell you about it during the next break. If Anne is listening, I am sorry, but I swear it wasn't me."

He doesn't really tell her anything, makes up a story about dares and quickly sends an answer to Harry.

Nick: You have to believe me! It really wasn't me. I swear!

He sends a second text right away.

Nick: also btw … You didn't make me coffee this morning and then go back to sleep, right?

Harry: This is fucked. And no, why?

Nick: Because there was a mug waiting for me in the kitchen …

Nick: Okay, break is up, I'll talk to you later.

Nick hopes that no one can tell that he is pretty much screaming on the inside by now. He just needs to get this show over with and then take and extended nap. There has to be an explanation to this.

It's half 8 in the evening when the doorbell rings and Harry walks in as soon as Nick had opened the door. He is dressed in all black from head to toe and carries a small overnight bag in his hand. He forgoes the greeting and instead walks straight into the living room. It takes Nick a few seconds to get out of his stupor and follow Harry.

"I thought you're going home tonight? Did something happen? Is Anne okay?" Nick asks worried.

"Huh? Oh no, everything is fine. I'm going tomorrow. I kept thinking about the ghost thing, alright?" Nick cringes at the word but watches as Harry produces a couple of candle from the bag and dumps them on the couch that had been delivered along with the rest of the furniture this afternoon. Harry either doesn't even notice or he doesn't care. Either way he sets out the candles in a circle on the coffee table and then takes out and actual Ouija board. Nick can't believe his eyes. He didn't even know that those things actually existed, much less, where one could buy them.

"Harold, please tell me that you're not serious?"

But Harry ignores him and just keeps setting up the table.

"Did you have this lying around your flat?" Nick asks before he pauses horrified. "Did you just _buy_ that? Did anyone see you? Will I hear about that tomorrow in the Ent News?"

In his head he can already hear Sinead. _And guess which popstar has been spotted buying a Ouija board yesterday._

When Harry starts lighting up the black sparkly candles Nick wishes he had some wine. Maybe he should sneak into the kitchen and have a few sips. He is not sure how this is going to go but he feels like he swallowed hot iron that's sitting heavy in his stomach now.

"I don't think this works outside of films, Harry." He says. "The thing moves because our subconsciousness makes us move it." He saw it in a documentary once.

"You have to believe in it. Otherwise it won't work."

"What, the ghost will be too self-conscious?"

Harry sighs.

"Just try to keep an open mind, okay? I'm just trying to help."

Nick does feel a little bit bad. Harry has put off seeing his family for this and the least he could do is do this as seriously as possible. Afterwards they can open a bottle of wine and talk about that stupid time they tried to contact a ghost.

"Okay, say this works? Can I tell the ghost to fuck off?"

Harry whips around to stare at Nick.

"Fuck, no. That's so rude. There has to be a reason they are still around."

"Okay. I guess I won't then."

"I'm ready by the way. We can start whenever."

"And how is this going to go exactly?"

"Well, we both put one finger on the planchette and then close our eyes and concentrate. If the ghost wants to communicate it can use its energy to move it towards the letters and spell out words. So, I guess the questions should be simple ones or yes and no questions."

Nick sits down inside the circle of candles. With a sigh Nick puts his right index finger in the board and waits for Harry to switch off the lights. His heart threatens to beat out of his chest, but he ignores it and steadies his hands. Harry sits down opposite of him and adds finger.

"Okay, close your eyes." Nick complies and waits for further instructions.

"Okay... ehm … dear ghost. Can you hear us?"

Nothing happens.

"We just want to talk to you for a bit. Can you move the triangle on the board if you can hear us?"

Nick thinks he can feel something move for just a fraction of a second but he has his eyes screwed together, afraid to look. It's probably just Harry anyway.

"Ghost, if you can hear us, can you move the triangle?"

This time Nick can clearly feel the wood underneath his fingers move. Slowly it glides across the board towards the top left corner.

"Quit messing with me Harry! That's not funny."

"I'm not doing it." Harry whispers and takes his finger off.

Nick watches in horror as the planchette keeps on moving until it stops over the word "yes" even after he takes off his own finger as well. He feels sick.

"What the fuck, Harry? How are you doing this?"

"I swear, I'm not doing anything. I'm freaking out as well!" Harry exclaims.

For the first time Nick looks at Harry directly. His skin is paler than Nick has ever seen it, his eyes comically large and a sheen of sweat is covering his face. Harry might be a Christopher Nolan approved actor but there is no way he is that good.

"O-okay, so, like …. Do you have a name?" Harry says, the tremor in his voice obvious.

Neither of them bother to put their fingers back on the board and after a few seconds the planchette wobbles a bit around the word yes before coming to a rest on in again.

"What's your name?"

This time, instead of an answer, all the lights in the living room come on at once, followed by the candles going out.

Both Harry and Nick jump up at the same time.

"Fuck me! What was that?" Harry yells.

"How should I know? Maybe you angered it?"

Next thing he knows, the light bulbs shatter all at once. The shriek he lets out probably can be heard down the whole street.

"Okay, I'm not staying here." Harry says from somewhere in the dark and Nick agrees. They don't take long to get out of the flat. Nick grabs his phone and puts on the first pair of shoes he finds. He quickly grabs Pig and Stinky and their leashes and ushers the confused dogs outside. In all the hast he forgets to take a jacket with him and doesn't realise it until he is shivering outside of his flat, waiting for Harry to bring the car around. He keeps looking over his shoulder, into the dark windows of his flat. Somehow, he thinks if he continues looking for long enough, he will see a figure appear from behind his curtains.

The drive to Harry's flat is quiet. And not the comfortable sort of quiet either. Harry almost runs a red light and Nick continues shivering and shaking on the passenger seat. Nobody says anything about the radio not being turned on.

Nick is the first to speak again.

"What happened tonight? I'm not going mad, right? You saw it too!"

"Nick, I … I don't know?" Harry begins, "like I wasn't sure if I even believed you fully. I don't know what I thought would happen but not that. I can't explain it, okay."

They don't talk much after that. Nick borrows a pair of sweat pants from Harry and they go to sleep, tightly spooning and jumping at even the slightest noise. Nick dreads going home the next day but he doesn't want to deprive Harry anymore of his family and he is too proud to go with him. This flat had been his dream even before that thing with the dickhead happened and he will not let a ghost take that away from him.

The night is over quicker than he would like and soon Nick's alarm is going off and he is quietly getting dressed in the dark. Harry mumbles something but seems to fall back asleep immediately. Bless his ability to sleep. Nick borrows a pair of clean pants, knowing that Harry won't mind and a jacket that looks suspiciously like the one he has been looking for, for at least a month. Those thieving little millionaires. He lets himself out and calls a cab to take him too work.

The show passes in a blur. Everyone is excited over Nick bringing his dogs to work but Tina asks if he is feeling alright. It's probably not one of his best shows but he thinks he had worse. He won't check the reviews. Fiona asks him our for lunch, but Nick is anxious to get home and lies about a sore throat and wanting to get all the rest he can get so he doesn't lose his voice.

When he gets home he carefully opens the front door. He almost expects something to come flying at him. Instead he is greeted by his normal, dark flat. Just to be sure he goes through each room individually, leaving his dogs in the hallway. In the living room he gets a surprise. The shards of the blown out light bulbs spell "SORRY" on the floor. A shiver runs down his spine. He doesn't know what to do with that. Even though he calls out multiple times, no one answers and nothing moves so in the end, Nick gets started on cleaning up the room. He throws out the shards and hovers before getting new bulbs. Before he lets his dogs back in he makes sure there is nothing that could hurt them.

Originally his plan had been to relax and watch a bit of telly but after half an hour of that he gives up. He's too antsy. The Ouija board is still in the same place where they hat left it the previous evening and Nick's gaze keeps wandering towards it.

He gets up to get a lighter and quickly lights the candles again. Both Pig and Stinky have left the room, but he closes the door just to be sure. It feels like they are safer out there, than in here. Nick then sits down in front of the board, lightly places his finger on the planchette and closes his eyes. After a deep breath he says,

"Hiya. Um … my name is Nick and … ah … I would like to talk to you?" He knows is sounds like a question but he keeps his mental focus on opening his mind and letting whatever is going on here simply happen.

It takes a minute but then he feels the wood underneath his finger move towards. "HELLO."

"Oh, erm, hi! Sorry about the freak out yesterday. I'm not really … used to this? What is your name?"

Nick laughs nervously. He earns his money by basically talking to people he can't see but right now it feels like the weirdest thing to speak out loud. He is voice sounds foreign and rough, as if he had been smoking the night before.

 L – O – U – I – S the ghost spells out slowly.

"Why are you haunting me Loui _s_?" Nick asks when he finds his voice again.

N – O – S

"Nos? What does that mean?"

L – O – U – I – E

"Oh, okay, Lou _i_ s. Why are you haunting me?"

This time the response takes even longer.

I – D – O – N – T – K – N – O – W

"Can you leave?"

The planchette moves to "NO" and then to "GOODBYE" very quickly. There is no movement after that.

The rest of the weeks goes by in a similar fashion. Nick goes to work and tries to get home as soon as he can, still faking a cough he can't quite shake. He tries to communicate with Louis multiple times but most of the time there is no answer. He does however wake up to find all of his shoes strewn all over the hallway one morning and Pig and Stinky having the time of their lives in between them. He is 99% sure that Louis had thrown them out here. He just doesn't know why. The highlight of the week is his sofa finally being delivered. The whole thing takes a turn at the end of the week.

Nick walks into his kitchen and drops both grocery bars at once. There, on the kitchen sits a young man, his legs crossed in front of him. He’s staring down at Pig with a smile on his face. It would almost be serene if it weren’t creepy.

“What the fuck? How did you get in here?”

The man whips his head around.

“You can see me?”

“What?” Nick asks incredulously, “of course I can fucking see you?”

“You never did before. I’m Louis.”

Nick is taken aback by the revelation.

“Louis.. the ghost?”

“Yep.”  
Now that nick takes a closure look at the man he notices how pale his skin is, almost translucent. It feels like his eyes can’t quite understand what he is seeing. By all logic he should be able to look though the ghost.

“Why can I see you?”

Nick has about a million questions, he doesn’t even know where to start.

“No clue.”

Louis doesn’t seem to be all too bothered by it.

“Shouldn’t you know about that stuff?”

“Mate, sometimes I pick up things and in the middle of it, they just fall through my arm. I have no idea how it works.” Louis answers as if that explains it all.

Nick continues staring for a while. Pig is looking at him with her head crooked. She probably thinks her dad lost his marbles and is talking to the walls now. Or can she see Louis? He asks Louis about it.

“I think the black one can see me. He doesn’t like it. This one either doesn’t see me or doesn’t give a fuck.”

Nick suddenly remembers all the times Stinky left the room whimpering or barked at seemingly nothing at all.

“You have been scaring my dog all this time?” Where is Stinky right now? He should probably go check on him.

“Not on purpose, I swear! As soon as I figured it out I tried staying away from him. I don't want to make him feel bad!"

Nick hums as an answer and gets down on the floor to collect the things he dropped. He isn't quite over the face that there is a ghost sitting in his kitchen. Thankfully nothing broke or started leaking. He had known that there is a ghost living in his flat for over a week now but there is a difference between knowing and actually seeing one in front of him. Until a month ago, ghosts were a thing of horror movies and nutters on the internet. Now there is one standing in front of him.

"Can I touch you?" Nick asks when everything is back in the bags.

"Are you asking for my permission or whether you'd be able to feel anything?"

"Both."

"Go ahead. I have no idea what will happen."

Louis is still sitting on his kitchen counters with a small smile on his face. A very beautiful face, if Nick might add. He slowly extents his hand and stops right before touching Louis' arm. Maybe there is still a small part of him that is hoping this is some elaborate prank someone is pulling on him and this Louis guy is actually an actor. But then he moves his hand again and feels … nothing. Well, not nothing exactly. Something a little bit cold and tingly. It's nothing like he's ever felt before, that's for certain.

He's not touching Louis, rather reaching through him. After a while he retracts his hand and looks at Louis.

"This felt … weird." When Louis doesn't answer he adds, "I'm sorry, that's probably rude."

"No, it's fine. I just realised that I was really hoping I could feel something but I only kinda felt like a tingling, but not really. Like you said, it's weird."

Nick realises that in all this madness over past few weeks he had not once stopped to think about how the ghost might feel. Or rather, whether the ghost even has feelings. He had assumed the ghost to be a shapeless form of nothingness, hundreds of years old and out to get him. On a closer look, ghost Louis can't be that old. He seems to be wearing black skinny jeans, a white t-shirt and black vans. Not your typical Victorian era ghost. He also looks quite young, early twenties probably and it hits Nick all of a sudden. Louis is dead. He is a ghost of a young man, that died. This must be the clothes that he died in, right?

"You look a bit pale there, Nick. Everything okay?" Louis asks.

Where is his voice coming from if he isn't a physical shape? Nick thinks but instead blurts out, "You're dead."

"Um… yeah?"

"Shit."

"Did you only realise that now? I might know shit about ghosts but like … I know that much."

Nick needs to sit down for a moment. Wordlessly he walks into the living room and drops down on the sofa. Of course, he doesn't hear Louis following him and he jumps a bit when Louis soundlessly drops down next to him.

"Sorry." Louis mumbles but doesn't offer much more. Nick is glad for it. It's easy thinking about getting rid of the ghost when the ghost in question is a faceless _thing_ that keeps on knocking over things in your flat. But now he can see and hear Louis and even the thought of getting rid of him makes Nick's stomach turn around. This is everything that is left of Louis. Suddenly he wants to know all there is about him. Louis can't be dead for that long. Nick might have passed him on the streets. Nick might know one of his mates. Nick could have met Louis in a pub at one point.

"How old are you?" That's the question he starts with.

"17." Louis giggles.

"What? You can't be."

"Oh, I thought we're playing Twilight references. I'm 24." After a pause he adds, "Or I guess I was when I … you know. I'd be … um … 26 now."

Nick wants to ask, but he doesn't know how to. Is it considered rude to ask a ghost how they died? The conflict must show on his face because Louis leans backwards a bit against the cushions and says, "It's okay. You can ask how I died if you want."

"Are you sure?" Nick asks with a weak smile. "I don't want to bring up any unpleasant memories."

"It's really not that bad. Had an aneurism in my sleep. Went to bed one night, didn't get up the next. No pain, no suffering, nothing. Well, not for me. It sucked for my family. They … only sold the flat this year. You're sleeping in the room–"

"Please don't finish that sentence." Nick begs.

" –that I died in."

"Oh my god, I'm not gonna sleep tonight." Nick groans but Louis only laughs at him.

"What, are you afraid my ghost is gonna haunt you? Oh, wait."

"It's not funny." He complains. "It's creepy knowing someone died in the room you sleep in."

Nick phone rings in his pocket and he remembers, that he never texted Harry like he promised. He apologises to Louis and picks up to let Harry know that he is home already, and he can stop by whenever he wants.

"Is Harry Styles coming over?" Louis asks excited and Nick swears he can see colour rushing back into his cheeks.

"You know him?"

"I died two years ago, not twelve. Of course, I know him. I knew who you were when you moved in as well."

"Oh … I hadn't thought about that."

Ghosts in movies were always centuries old and telling stories of wars long gone by. This one apparently knows about as much about the world as Nick, technically less.

"I was so excited the last time Harry was over. I think that's why I blew out all the bulbs. Sorry about that again, by the way. I'd offer to pay for it but I have no idea what happened to all the money I owned. I can't leave this house."

Nick and Louis talk until they hear Harry in the hallway. When Nick gets to him, Harry has already handed out treats to Pig and Stinky and is peeling himself out of a fancy coat.

"Hey, how's Anne? How's Gemma?" Nick asks after pulling back from the hug.

"They're both wonderful. Mum says she misses you. You have to come up with me next time."

"I promise I will."

They move to the living room and Nick eagerly awaits the moment Harry will comment on Louis, who is sitting on the edge of the sofa, a somewhat painful smile on his face. How a ghost can suffer from anxiety is beyond Nick, but what does he know?

But Harry doesn't say anything. Instead he lets himself drop down in the sofa basically on top of Louis as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Louis' smile drops.

"He can't see me."

"No, I guess he can't." Nick sighs.

"What?" Harry asks.

"You can't see the ghost sitting on my sofa. It's tragic really, he's a big fan of you apparently."

It's comically to see Harry crane his neck as he locks left and right of himself before looking back to Nick.

"You can see it?"

Louis scoffs at the word "it".

" _He_ is sitting pretty much next to you, on your right side, staring up at you with big eyes. His name is Louis, by the way."

Harry seems to strain his eyes in order to see him.

"'How can you see him and I can't?" he pouts.

"We both have no idea and it's a pretty recent development. Scared the shit out of me when I came home today and he was sitting on my kitchen counters."

"So, how does a ghost look like?"

"This one looks like the long lost fifth member of One Direction to be honest. I could see the fans go crazy for this face."

"Did you just call me fit?" Louis smirks before Nick realises what he just said. But it's true and he isn't going to take it back.

"Yeah I did… get over yourself. I bet you got all the girls or boys or whoever you desired in life."

Harry looks at him.

"I feel like I'm hearing one side of a phone call. This is so weird."

"Can you tell Harry that I loved Sign of the Tines?"

Nick snorts.

"Louis says he loved Sign of the Times."

Harry seems surprised.

"I thought that was a joke earlier. He's actually a fan? How does a ghost get into pop music?"

"He's only like two years older than you." Nick mutters. He can see the exact moment Harry realises what that means.

"Oh."

"Yes, yes, I died young. Please get over it quickly. I managed to do it, so can you."

But Nick knows Harry's heart.

"Give him some time Louis. He's a sentimental man."

"So, is he always watching you? Like is he always here?"

Nick hadn't thought about it. There must have been times where Louis had been unable to communicate with him where they had been in the same room? Had he maybe walked through him at some point? Do ghosts sleep? Where? Where does _this_  ghost sleep?

"That is a good question, Louis? You said you can't leave the house. Does that mean you're always here? Do you sleep?"

Louis gets up and walks to the other side of the room. Only even though he moves his legs, the feel never really tough the ground.

"I'm pretty much walking up and down the flat all the time. I keep out of the rooms the little dog is in and like my … I mean your room, most of the time, for like privacy issues. And I don't sleep but time feels different for me I guess. I don't get bored. I just … exist. I don't feel every emotion anymore."

For the rest of the evening they play "what can and can't Louis do". The check whether he would show up in polaroid pictures (no), digital photos and videos (no, no), have a reflection in the mirror (also no) and all other kinds of scenarios to try they can come up with. Harry is still put out at the end of it that he can't see Louis, but at least he can see it when Louis moves stuff around. (The weight of the item doesn't seem to have so much an impact on whether he can move an object but rather how familiar he is with the task. Louis can make a cup of coffee or tea without trouble, but he can't feed the dogs for some reason. His hands keep gliding through the bag of dog food.)

Louis leaves at some point so Nick and Harry can have some time to talk on their own but when Harry is about the leave his shoes are gone once again form the hallway.

"Loooouuuis!" Nick shouts. "Where did you put Harry's shoes?"

Louis glides back into the room with a sad smile on his face.

"In last kitchen cupboard on the right."

Nick relays the information to Harry. When they have said their goodbyes and Nick is once again the only human being in the flat he sighs.

"Why do you keep hiding people's shoes? I really don't get it." At first he had thought it had been sort of a prank, like the shopping list or the dick drawn onto Harry's face but now he is unsure.

"Because people keep leaving you and you look sad."

Nick doesn't know how to answer that.

"What?" he asks.

"I don't think you notice it but you look … sad when you're alone. I thought maybe the people would stay if they couldn't find their shoes. I didn't want you to be alone and I feel like you'd never ask for help. I don't know why, okay, but I don’t like seeing you sad. I guess that is one emotion I can still feel."

Nick thinks about it for a long time when he goes to bed. He thought he was doing better, really. But maybe he was just too focused on the whole being haunted situation to really think about anything else. He never had been good at dealing with unpleasant feelings.

He kind of expects Louis to be gone the next day but he's still there when Nick gets up. Nick tells him that he can't fix him by hiding people's shoes and Louis agrees but he also promises to spend more time with his friends, if that makes Louis happy.

Harry texts him a link to an article at the end of the week. It's about being able to see your True Love's ghost.

"Well, that sucks." Louis exclaims when Nick finishes reading the article to him. "How is it fair that I meet my True Love after I have died?"

Nick scoffs.

"What about me? My True Love died before I got to meet him."

Louis hums in acknowledgement.

"Do you think that is why I'm still around? Because we were meant to be soulmates or something?"

"That's … I don't know? Could be? Why else would you still be here? Any unfinished business?"

"I was 24 when I died, I had plenty of unfinished business. But nothing really concrete. Just things like I wanted to get married and maybe have a family. Move to a nice flat with them and maybe get a dog. That sort of stuff."

"Well, now you have two dogs and we're sort of sharing a flat." Nick offers.

"I guess I do." Louis smiles.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this might not be what you had originally had in mind. 
> 
> Like I said, I had so many ideas that didn't make it into this fic but if you want I'd write a part two? With more focus on a romantic relationship? Ghost sex? I don't know. Let me know what you think. I had fun writing this!


End file.
